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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172625">Leave a light on</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight/pseuds/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight'>SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Death, Feels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:46:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight/pseuds/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier remembers those who have passed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Leave a light on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Candle light was increasingly difficult to read and write by. It didn’t matter who you were. Jaskier growled as he slammed his quill down. The snow was falling hard outside and his fire was stoked high. Even here by the hearth he was having difficulty reading and writing. He rubbed his eyes. </p>
<p>When he was younger this had not been a problem at all. Now in his late fifties it was. The songs, the poems, his ballads, all came as naturally as before. Now however he could only write when the sun was out. He knew he should retire to bed. </p>
<p>He walked to the window and observed the falling snow. ‘How many winters has it been now? To many.’ He thinks. He leans against the window sill and loses himself in memories of his past travels. He had lost them all. He had spent all of his time since then writing about their adventure. Writing about Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri. </p>
<p>He knew of course that Ciri was alive still but he had not seen her in a very long time. It was their fondness for Geralt and in her own right, Yennefer, that brought them together once a year in remembrance. </p>
<p>Sighing he lit the candle that sat upon his windows ledge and whispered a prayer to Miletele. Then to thin air, “I hope you’re having the time of your life in the other world Geralt. I hope you are safe Ciri.Yennefer, look after them both will you.” Slowly he turned away from the window and settled into his bed. </p>
<p>He joined them watching over Ciiri that night and every moment after.</p>
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